


Upholding Tradition

by totalizzyness



Series: 00Q Prompts [12]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Christmas Party, Christmas fic, Fluff, M/M, Mistletoe, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 04:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totalizzyness/pseuds/totalizzyness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Q and Bond share their first kiss under mistletoe on Christmas Eve at work!</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upholding Tradition

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Upholding Tradition](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1320844) by [AprilforSpring](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AprilforSpring/pseuds/AprilforSpring)



James Bond unfortunately found his presence at the office Christmas party mandatory. And so on Christmas Eve, he was stood by the drinks table, fingering the stem of his glass of wine, looking out over the crowd of his co-workers in various stages of drunkenness  shouting over the music and gyrating against one another.  
  
He’d been told he could leave after midnight, and had two and a half more hours to kill until he could get the Hell out of there. He couldn’t spot anyone else he actually wanted to talk to. Everyone seemed to actually be enjoying themselves, enjoying the festive season, and all the alcohol being served — a free bar was enough to put anyone in the holiday spirit. Not Bond, however, the Scrooge he was.  
  
“Nothing worse than drunk co-workers over the Christmas season, eh?”  
  
Bond spun around, Q was stood on the other side of the table, eyeing the spread suspiciously. He smirked, taking in the sight of the quartermaster, for once dressed up nicely. Not a cardigan in sight.  
  
“So why are you here?”  
  
Q looked up and smiled. “Tanner threatened to ban me from the premises tomorrow if I didn’t attend.”  
  
“Why would you be here tomorrow?”  
  
“Some of us don’t have a family to go to, and so choose to work over Christmas.”  
  
Bond smirked. “That makes two of us.”  
  
“How did you find yourself here?”  
  
“Blackmail. M threatened to have me fired.”  
  
Q snorted out a laugh, picking up a bread roll. “Would he really?”  
  
Bond chuckled, draining the rest of his drink. “Probably.”  
  
“How long are you here for?”  
  
“Until midnight.”  
  
“Same.”  
  
Q put the bread roll back down, wiping his hand clean on his suit jacket. Bond reached over to the collection of wine bottles, refilling his glass.  
  
“Fancy skulking off to a corner somewhere? You can tell me all about the newest developments in Q branch.”  
  
Q smiled, picking up a glass of orange juice. “Certainly. Lead the way, Double-Oh.”  
  
Bond looked around the room, finding a nice quiet corner with seating. The lighting was dimmed in the corner, hopefully no one would see them and disturb them. As they sat down, Bond felt a quick tingle running through his body; he would be alone in a darkened corner with a particularly attractive guy. And not just any attractive guy, Q. The subject of a lot of his fantasies as of late. Despite his skinny frame, nervous ticks, large glasses that hid his eyes, and God-awful cardigans, Bond couldn’t but want Q for his own.  
  
“So, is there any inherent reason you hate Christmas?” Q asked, looking down in to his drink. Bond shrugged, leaning back, getting comfortable.  
  
“No real reason, to be honest. It’s just another bloody holiday, like Valentine’s Day, Halloween… Why bother.”  
  
“You don’t like Valentine’s Day?”  
  
Bond smirked. “Why, do you?”  
  
“Not at all, but you… You just seemed the type.”  
  
“You shouldn’t presume things, Q.”  
  
Q chuckled. “Very right.”  
  
“And yourself? Your hatred of this merry season?”  
  
“It was never properly celebrated in my home, and I just continued the tradition of not making a big deal.”  
  
“I suppose it’s always a good excuse to get absolutely pissed.”  
  
Q smiled, taking a quick sip of his drink. “I don’t drink.”  
  
“No?”  
  
“Never interested me.”  
  
Bond chuckled, swirling his drink around his glass. “It’s fantastic. There’s nothing better. Not even sex.”  
  
Q smiled nervously. “That’s… quite sad.”  
  
“That I value alcohol over sex?”  
  
“That alcohol is the only thing in your life.”  
  
“Well, it’s not for lack of trying. It’s hard to have a significant other in this line of business.”  
  
“I understand, but… drinking your life away?”  
  
“I assure you, if anything kills me, it’s not going to be the alcohol.”  
  
Q let out a quiet chuckle. “Well, there’s always that… If you ever did — find a significant other — would you stop drinking?”  
  
Bond shrugged, looking out over the crowd. “It depends… Probably.”  
  
It fell silent between the two; Bond staring down at his wine, taking the occasional sip, Q scanning the room, tapping out beat on his wrist. Bond tried desperately to find something to talk about. Anything. But he was no good at small talk, it infuriated him, and he knew Q wasn’t really the chatty type either. Realistically they didn’t have much in common, but Bond wanted him all the same.  
  
He noticed Q give him a coy glance out of the corner of his eye, instantly looking away when he was caught. Bond smirked to himself, taking a larger gulp of his drink.  
  
“Are you warm?”  
  
Q looked up, shrugging.  
  
“I’m feeling a little warm… Fancy a walk?”  
  
“Sure.”  
  
Bond pulled himself to his feet, offering Q a hand up before leading the way out of the room, down a cool corridor. Q had left his drink behind, his hands stuffed awkwardly in his pockets as he shuffled just behind Bond. Bond occasionally glanced over his shoulder, smiling at just how awkward Q managed to look. His usual type was confident, sexy, dangerous, and Q was only one of these things, and even then he was only dangerous if armed with a laptop and internet connection. But Q had his own allure.  
  
“You always walk like you’re on a mission.”  
  
Bond stopped, turning to look at the quartermaster. “What?”  
  
“They way you walk, it’s like you have somewhere to be, something to do. Even when you don’t… It’s a very confident walk.”  
  
“I’m a confident man.”  
  
Q smiled nervously, propping himself up against the wall. “You’re a spy. You’re who people expect you to be, so you tailor yourself to those ideals… Are you a confident man or a damn good actor?”  
  
“Well… what do you think?”  
  
“I suppose a good actor requires a certain level of confidence.”  
  
Bond smirked, taking a step closer to Q, folding a hand neatly in his trouser pocket. “That doesn’t really answer the question.”  
  
“Well, if I had to pigeon-hole you as one or the other… I’d say you were a good actor.”  
  
“And what makes you say that?”  
  
Q took his hands from his pocket, holding them instead, behind his back. “Every good actor has his tells, Bond. A confident man is a man who’s sure of himself, he wouldn’t question his decisions, or the decisions of his superiors… You’re forever questioning everyone’s decisions. And you falter more than you think. No one else may notice, that split second when you’re not sure, but I do… I can see it in your eyes… Read it in your pulse. The way your breath isn’t quite even…”  
  
“You seem to know me quite well.”  
  
Q smiled. “I’m your quartermaster, I believe it’s in my job description.”  
  
“So at what point during your being a boy genius did you get your Masters in psychology?”  
  
Laughing nervously, Q pushed himself from the wall, slipping past Bond, walking further along the corridor. “Psychology was a little hobby of mine. Understanding people is like understanding computers.”  
  
Bond followed his quartermaster down the corridor, sitting beside him on a bench. “I feel like you should tell me something about yourself, seeing as you know all about me.”  
  
“There’s nothing you can’t learn about me that’s no in my file. I’m a simple person.”  
  
“Oh I don’t think you are. There’s layers to you, like there’s layers to anyone… You’re just very good at concealing them.”  
  
“I suppose… it would take someone very good at undercover work to reveal them.”  
  
Bond smirked, finally draining his glass and placing it gently on the floor beside the bench. “Is that so?”  
  
“Well, you tell me.”  
  
Bond chuckled, taking a long glance around at his surroundings. The corridor had a sense of sterility to it, white walls, white tiled floor, bright lights. He was sure once the cleaner had been through it would smell of disinfectant. The thought reminded him of how he loathed hospitals.  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Bond looked back to Q, noticing he had his head tipped up. He looked up too, to see what was so fascinating. A sprig of mistletoe was hung above their heads. This was Bond’s opportunity. He looked back down at Q, gauging his reaction to the tradition-maintaining plant.  
  
“Curious, is it not. There’s no record of why people share a kiss under the mistletoe, we just know it’s something to do. A tradition. No one questions this tradition, no one questions the fact there’s no actual reason for it — it’s not for good luck, or prosperity, it’s just… a tradition people uphold.”  
  
Bond nodded, his eyes studying Q’s face for any kind of tell. “Curious indeed. Where do you stand on traditions.” He was sure he saw the hint of a smirk in the corner of Q’s mouth.  
  
“Oh I uphold traditions very seriously.”  
  
Bond could feel himself drawing closer. “Is that so?”  
  
“It is…”  
  
It happened almost in slow motion, Q’s eyelids fluttering closed, Bond’s following immediately after; their noses brushing softly, Bond’s lips puckering just slightly until they grazed against Q’s. His hand quickly slipped up, cupping the quartermaster’s cheek as Q caught Bond’s bottom lip between his own. Bond let out a quiet groan, pressing himself harder against the smaller man, relishing the way Q’s body embraced him.  
  
Q’s hand slipped inside Bond’s jacket, curling around his waist, holding him closer to his own body. He felt Bond’s tongue lick against the seam of his lips, his mouth parting willingly. He let out an involuntary moan as Bond licked at the roof of his mouth, his other arm curling around his shoulders, holding him in place.  
  
“It’s a shame we can’t leave for another two hours,” Bond murmured, pressing chaste kisses up the curve of Q’s cheek. Q smiled, his fingers squeezing softly at the muscle of Bond’s side.  
  
“I’m sure I was told to just not leave the building.”  
  
Bond smirked, curling his fingers in Q’s messy hair. “Are you suggesting we move this to a supply closet? How very high school of you.”  
  
Q laughed, resting his forehead against Bond’s. “Well, I never did live a real teenager’s life… But no, that wasn’t what I was suggesting, exactly.”  
  
“What were you suggesting?”  
  
Q pressed a quick kiss to Bond’s lips, sliding from his grasp. “That we at least move this from where someone can stumble upon us.”  
  
“Well, both are good ideas.”  
  
Q laughed, holding out his hand for Bond to take. “Lead the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on my Tumblr; [[link](http://the-nerdinator.tumblr.com/post/36183439103/james-bond-unfortunately-found-his-presence-at-the)]


End file.
